Page 10 of The Denver Alpha

Juliet frowns, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at me indignantly. “That was mine,” she pouts.

“You’re underage.”

“So?” She cocks out a hip, resting her hand upon it and glaring up at me defiantly.

Cute.

“So this is my club,” I retort, narrowing my eyes on her. “The last thing I need is to cop a fine for serving underage girls.”

She chuckles wryly, rolling her eyes. “Give me a break. Those laws don’t apply to us.”

“In my city they do.”

“Then what about Shay?” Juliet challenges. “She said she goes out to the clubs here all the time.”

“She’s Sam’s responsibility.”

“And what, I’m yours?” she scoffs.

I give her a single nod, pinning her with a stare.

She glares back at me with the intensity of the sun, the two of us locked in a standoff for a prolonged moment, neither willing to back down.

Fuck she smells good. And looks even better. The dress she’s wearing clings to her curves, her cleavage peeking out of the scooped neckline. Her makeup isn’t caked on like most of the girls in here; instead she’s effortlessly beautiful in an understated sort of way that makes her stand out from the overly primped club girls. Juliet is a walking contradiction- she looks so fucking sweet, but the fire in her eyes says otherwise. She’s a hellion in an angel’s skin.

“Whatever,” Juliet finally sighs. “I’m gonna go dance.” She takes a step forward, her tits brushing against my chest, and peers up at me demurely with those wide, blue eyes. “Care to join me?” she asks, her voice dropping to a sultry octave that my dick instantly reacts to.

“I don’t dance,” I grit out.

A smirk creases her lips. “Fun hater.”

A retort is on the tip of my tongue, but before I can get it out, Juliet ducks under my arm and darts into the fray. She’s swallowed up by the crowd of people gathered around the bar for a few moments, then finally emerges on the other side, working her way toward the dance floor.

My fists curl at my sides as I keep my eyes trained on her, the sequins of her dress reflecting the lights like a disco ball and making her movements easy to track. She approaches a small group of people dancing whom I immediately recognize as pack and starts swaying her hips, joining in.

Well this night just took a fucking turn.

Agitation rises within me, both me and my inner wolf suddenly on edge. I swing my gaze back to the bar, stepping up to the counter. “Hey J,” I call, thumping a fist down on the bar top to grab his attention. Jason stops unloading the case of gin, his head snapping around and his eyes widening on me in question. “I’ll take that drink after all.”

His lips turn up in a grin and he immediately steps away from his current task to grab a glass and pour a healthy measure of top-shelf bourbon into it. He delivers it quickly and I dismiss him to return to his duties, remaining posted up at the bar, sipping liquor from my glass while I casually observe the staff as they work.

Or at least that’s what I hope it looks like.

Truthfully, I’m not paying much attention to them- my gaze keeps drifting back to the dance floor, snagging on a certain blonde in a silver dress that sparkles as it reflects the lights.

The way her body moves to the music is like poetry in motion; the smooth roll of her hips, the glide of her hands down her curves. At first glance, she and the others seem to be dancing together as a group, but Tobias Salinger keeps moving in closer on Juliet. My jaw ticks. I asked Tobias to show her around campus today, not take her out to a nightclub and feel her up.

A small hand lands on my arm, a familiar scent washing over me.

“Hi, Cole,” Tayla breathes, and I divert my attention from Juliet to look down at her as she slides in front of me, fighting a scowl of annoyance from forming on my lips.

Tayla’s blonde, too, with muddy brown eyes and a killer body. She’s got this annoying high-pitched voice that I can’t fucking stand, but she fucks like a pornstar and has been one of my regular booty calls for the last year or so. She knows the score between us, but that doesn’t stop her from being clingy and trying to force this into becoming more than it is. Just like the rest of them.

“Hey,” I grunt in response, peeling her hand from my arm. I drop it unceremoniously, raising my glass of bourbon and taking another sip.

Tayla has always sucked at taking a hint. She inches closer, rubbing her body up against mine like a cat. “You here tonight for business or pleasure?” she purrs.

“Business,” I reply simply. My gaze drifts back to the dance floor, locking in on Juliet again. Tobias is now plastered to her backside, his hands resting on her hips. My own tightens around my glass.

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